


The Ominous Shades of Gotham

by theprophetdiva



Series: The Ominous Shades of Gotham [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), DCU (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Gotham City - Freeform, Gotham City Police Department, Multi, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 06:31:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3718624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprophetdiva/pseuds/theprophetdiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thirty year old single mother, Sinara Castillo, is haunted by her past appearing in recurring dreams. Following the advice of her sister, she seeks closure from a shady hypnotist by the name of Hugo Strange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_"Am I worth the trouble?" He murmured._

_There was a look of sheer horror on his face. An image she could never rid herself of even on her best days. Rhys bowed his head, rubbing his eyes in the dreary room-- his contacts were bothering him, he always did that. She learned his habits and his body language the moment she realized she loved him._

_Sinara flicked her gaze over to the dripping faucet neighboring her husband. Her thoughts recollecting the words prior to then. She always ended up here, stuck on a repetitive loop until she said the correct words... but they were never right. They never fixed the open wound or changed the present for what it could've been._

_She nodded feverishly. "Of course you're worth it... I wouldn't be here if you weren't. I wouldn't have married you if you weren't."_

_Rhys paced the floor once he dropped his hand from his face. Panicked tears brimmed his eyes as he thought to himself. "I feel myself fading. Nothing makes sense anymore."_

_"Do **I** make sense? Does **Husani** make sense? We both love you-- your son needs you, **I** need you. I need you be here with me," She gripped the table behind her, "We can leave at any given moment, Rhys, we don't have to stay here."_

_"I'm not okay, Sin. You should pack Husani's things and yours so you can leave with your sister... leave Gotham while you still have the chance."_

_Her eyes glazed over replaying her own reaction to his words. The tears shed and the anger burning in her body as fiercely as she did four years ago. Pain in her voice and desperation in her actions when he walked away. She still withheld that heartbreak._

Even if it was only a dream.

 _'Just a dream,'_ She thought.

Sinara lifted her dampened cheek away from her pillow. She sat up on the edge of her bed, touching the wet spot on her stark white pillow and unfolding her legs on the mattress making contact with the cool floor. Sinara wiped the tears from her eyes and stepped over her dogs. The streetlights outside illuminated the windows casting a dim, shadowy path across the bedroom.

The dreams simply wouldn't stop. Every so often, she convinced herself she couldn't change the past no better than anyone else, yet they came back. Clear as day.

The woman took a few steps into the hall to listen closely to the soft, even breathing further down the hall. She took slow steps into the living room finding three school-aged boys resting inside of a makeshift tent.

Her son convinced her throwing a slumber party would be a good idea for him to get to know his friends better. He certainly succeeded from the noise complaints coming from the neighbors beneath them.

She leaned against the wall watching the peaceful expressions on all three of their faces until there was an abrupt sound coming from behind her. Sinara checked behind her after she heard the quiet yawn. Her eyes caught the tall, willowy figure shadowed by the dark joining her in the hall.

"You're still awake?" The figure nudged her.

"No..." Sinara responded simply.

The taller woman fell silent knowing what she meant behind it. Recurring dreams of moments she had zero control over were common trait of Sinara's. Even though she didn't visibly show her resentment, Sinara proved how abrasive she was on herself.

"I heard you crying. That's why I woke up... to wake you up."

Sinara scratched an itch underneath the elastic band of her satin bonnet. She exhaled a thin breath, "I'll be fine, Luna."

"You aren't okay. I really think you should reconsider that hypnotherapist's offer. Maybe you can find some closure instead of holding onto what happened five years ago." Luna muttered.

Sinara eyed the floor shifting uncomfortably, thanking her complexion for blending in with the dark for hiding her visible mood. Clammy hands covered her face to sober her expression.

The worst thing about the anxiety was the weighing doubt of her ever having closure. Nothing beyond her son's growth and their surroundings had changed... perhaps Luna had a point. Everything had been left reserved as if _he_ would return and make things whole again. Sinara stole a glance over her shoulder to the laundry room then she looked back to her sister.

She sucked her teeth; stubborn surrender written in her attitude. "I'll stop by and set up an appointment," Sinara tilted her head in shame, " _Fair_?"

Within the dim light, Luna's nose stud glinted in the light and the faintest smile tugged at her brown lips. "Fair."


	2. First Time Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinara follows her sister's advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Lovelies! This is a slow beginning. Once again introducing the characters and Hugo Strange himself. I hope to have the second chapter posted by this Friday. Enjoy xoxo

Raindrops pelted the windows leaving chaotic splatter patterns across the glass echoing into the waiting room. Keen brown eyes followed the eye-catching red second hand of the clock hanging on the wall behind the receptionist's desk. Her leg bounced showcasing her impatient mood.

She flicked the back of her hand towards her to read her own watch-- she wasn't late for work, but she certainly wouldn't let it be the first. A brief vibration emanating from her bag broke the deafening silence in the room. In a swift motion, she retrieved her cellphone and read her client's text over twice.

_'Room B23 at The Monarch Hotel. 2 p.m.'_

It was twelve thirty. Just moments after his previous patient exit the establishment, the buzz of an intercom went off immediately. From the other end, Sinara could hear the doctor's smooth voice topped off with an understandable Danish accent called for the next patient. Her.

The receptionist nudged herself away from her desk glancing over the height of the counter. " _Sin_ ara Castillo?"

The brunette bat her lashes recovering from her busy, scattered thoughts to focusing on the present. For once. She gripped her purse slinging it in the crook of her arm then approached the desk.

The blonde receptionist blinked cluelessly showing her slight apprehension. She stammered and blushed a subtle pink, "Dr. Strange is ready for you now."

"For future reference, my name is pronounced _Say-naar-uh_." She corrected, leaving the woman at her desk in silence.

Moments later, Sinara made her entrance in the elaborate office taking in the deep red and brown palette. One of the walls was lined with a bookshelf andthen adjacent to a cherry wood desk where Dr. Hugo Strange preoccupied himself. The essence alone came off daunt, foreign yet inviting to the ones seeking desperately for help, a cure. And she was unequivocally one of them.

Dr. Strange shifted his focus to an apprehensive Sinara lingering near the entrance. She stood prideful in tall stilettos making her seem to be the most put together. His eyes were automatically drawn to her hair, however, which sat atop her head in a curly puff-- one charming spiral fell an inch above a shapely brow. The stark black color of her hair accentuated the tawny brown of her skin.

A detached yet warm smile possessed her features; he rose to his feet when she strode across the room and he met her halfway. He returned the smile appeasing the disturbed gleam in his eye.

"I'm quite shocked you reconsidered my services," He began, "You were very comfortable in your decision of not coming at all, what changed your mind?"

Sinara placed a hand over her chest, shifting her eyes to the hardwood floor showing a sliver of vulnerability. Her full lips curved into a solemn frown and hardened amber gaze turned to liquid. A mourner's behavior taking over her movements as she gripped the lapel of her coat.

She shook her head. Doubting her problems before she could breathe life into her words.

"I don't know why I'm here," Sinara threw up a hand, "My sister was the one who called. I'm only filling in the seat for attendance."

She shrugged off her overcoat and draped it over the arm of the neutral green chaise. Her tote joining it seconds later. She swiped the small spiral curl away from her face and folded her arms over her chest.

A long pause ensued. Strange thought to himself observing his new patient's behavior while Sinara reconsidered her words. 

_'If you were filling in a seat, you wouldn't have bothered waiting for so long,'_ She reminded herself.

Strange tilted his head vaguely watching her. "Why do you feel the need to follow your sister's... detailed instructions? You are your own person. Are you not?"

Her warm gaze flicked up to the doctor."My sister isn't the root of my problems, if that's what you're implying. She cares about my mind as much as her own. I've been harboring a lot of emotions lately and I need a way of relieving myself of them. There's no way you could possibly erase memories selectively, could you?"

Dr. Strange had to lift his harsh stare back to Sinara to see she was clearly joking. The bright yet terrifying smile echoed his own.

"It's good you have a sense of humor," He directed her to have a seat in an upright chair, "Please. Sit."

In a subtle motion, Sinara circled around the chaise and smoothed the skirt of her fitted dress down before she sat. Her legs crossed and elbow resting one arm of the chair, her eyes followed the graceful movements the doctor possessed. The atmosphere had been welcoming enough, let alone the gentle yet cruel face framed by hair slicked back and accentuated by gray. The age on his face was telling yet it added to his own charm-- perhaps it was the telling foreign accent.

He checked the time on his watch, tapping his fountain pen against the bind for his notes.

"So tell me, what is it you're looking to _fix_ over these sessions?" 

Sinara folded her hands across her lap. "I want to forget."

A long, bemused pause.

"Ms. Castillo, I think you misunderstood the concept of hypnotherapy. I don't wipe your mind clear of whichever grief you suffer, I help you understand it."

She pursed her lips, too stubborn to translate her feelings into cohesive words. Then a brief reminder surfaced, a good chunk of her money would be going into this. Monthly.

"I want to stop the guilt." She admitted.

Strange looked up from his notes sensing a topic much heavier than his own presence. Guilt could've simply meant she stole an apple from the store or a possible crime. Oh, the delicious things her mind must have possessed.

He caught a glimpse of the vulnerability she had shown moments before. He wanted to pick that little brain of hers until she cracked and spilled through the gaping cracks.

"I have recurring dreams of different events. I'm sure the majority of Gotham heard about the _incident_ that took place a few years ago... among other things. It leads me to have terrible insomnia. I wake up crying. My son needs to know his mother isn't going completely off the rails." She straightened in the chair.

Her size alone, albeit well-poised, was swallowed up by size of the suede brown chair. The pale pink of her dress contrasting greatly against the chair itself. Leaving it hard to avert his gaze from her.

"In order to find the root of this guilt you feel, we will have to do a series of hypnotherapy sessions before regular psychotherapy." Hugo notified.

Her phone alerted her in the deafening silence. She stared at her bag for a long moment before she resumed her focus on the hypnotherapist.

"How long would that take exactly?"

A vague smile tugged at Hugo's mouth. "As long as necessary. I will have to perform a suggestibility test followed by a brief induction. There's no need in feeling calm since stress in this environment tends to be a good thing. Hypnosis is a state of anxiety and stress-- an overload of stimulus."

"Ah... guess I shouldn't be so worried about that then." She wrung out her hands.

"Your stress makes my job all the easier, you would be doing me a favor." He quipped.

Sinara linked her fingers together, wearing a nervous smile and cast her eyes down to her ruddy palms. The tick of the clock now drawing her attention. Paranoia settled in, her thoughts now drawn to her client and if she would be late.

The last thing she needed was a complaint on her brand-- let alone from one of the most infamous names in Gotham. She chastised herself for scheduling so randomly without considering her busy schedule. The Penguin preferred punctuality over tardiness.

The blurred, calming voice belonging to Strange continued to explain the process of hypnosis and induction. Her eyes shifted from palm to palm to grasp her current reality once more. She nodded to confirm they were on the same page.

"Have you ever walked in your sleep during your adult life?" He asked.

"No." She answered honestly.

"Did you ever feel comfortable expressing your emotions to your parents during your adolescence?"

Sinara laughed out of spite with a shake of her head. "No, never."

"Do you have a habit of looking directly into a person's eyes and/or move closely to them when discussing an interesting topic?" 

"...Yes."

"Do you feel that most people, when you first meet them, are uncritical of your appearance?"

She blinked, somewhat inquisitive of what these questions in particular were for. Her brow lifted, followed by a shrug.

"Do you feel that most people, when you first meet them, are uncritical of your appearance?" Strange repeated.

She shook her head unwilling to vocalize her answer.

They continued their back and forth questioning consisting of only 'yes', 'no', and prying questions. Questions Sinara often wondered how they would consist with her therapy. She only asked to know the reason behind her recurrent dreaming.

"Last question and we'll move on. You're doing wonderfully," Strange added, "Do you feel comfortable holding hands or hugging someone you are in a relationship with in front of other people?"

A softer smile graced her features and nodded once. "Yeah, I do." 

With a slight breath, Strange rose to his feet without much hesitation and directed her to relax into her seat. She leaned back, practically melting into it-- even though her nerves were on edge. Her fingers dug into the suede of the chair with sweaty palms; most of the pent up stress stemmed from the dwindling amount of time on her watch.

"Performing the induction will be simple, Ms. Castillo. Just listen to the sound of my voice and follow my instruction," He began, "Hold your head straight and find a focal point. Once you do, I want you to observe it closely, memorize it. Peruse each and every detail as if it were your own."

Sinara's gaze locked on the bookcase; her eyes naturally landed on a hardcover blue book with gold lettering extremely rich in color. The words itself read: _'Fascinate by Sally Hogshead'_. She recalled viewing the title once before, but never remembered exactly where. The mystery didn't plague her nor did it isolate her mind from Strange's brief instruction to fall deeper into her pleasant trance.

The last thing she remembered had been the timbre of his voice and the blinding, fluorescent light above her.


	3. Psychoanalysis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The session continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Readers! Sorry about the delay for this chapter, life was calling and things got pretty busy. Here is the third chapter (things will start to pick up soon, I promise).

_Breathe._

_Don’t think. Breathe._

The only thing connecting her to her conscious, harsh reality would be the tonality of Dr. Strange’s voice infiltrating every inch of her mind. Racketing through every first layer secret until he found the trigger point; only to work his way deeper into her subconscious. Oddly intimate yet terrifying to become so trusting of person she just met. Doctor Strange’s knowledge of her past life would-- very quickly-- surpass her sister’s own.

And yet, the very notion didn’t stop her from admitting the minute details of her life. It was written in almost every psychology article she had scoured before she walked through the office door that a patient could resist, even under a strong influence. No matter how experienced the doctor was… and Hugo Strange was one of the best hypnotherapists in New Jersey. There had to be something in her begging to let go.

“... I’m hungry.” Sinara continued.

” You’ve made that very clear, Sinara. Do you resent becoming an escort for the sake of your son?” Strange asked.

Her chest rose and fell, clearly showing her breathing were in healthy amounts. She shook her head, “No… I don’t resent being an escort at all.”

Hugo thought to himself. Clearly the questions he asked weren’t the right ones since she had the ability to answer with simple reasons. The doctor leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully, and watching her with an intense stare. He recognized her; remembered the iconic, unhinged stare he so greatly understood during the infamous interview on GCN. Everybody wanted to sell her story. The trauma of a mother-- completely erasing the obvious wedding ring on her finger and her husband standing on the sidelines, gripping her jacket with near-crippling anxiety. The media had disgusting ways in twisting an already tragic story into a profit; one easier for the masses to swallow.

”When you dream, what do you dream about exactly?”

”Rhys,” She whispered, “I… I always think I can convince him to stay. If I just listened to him, offer to help him better than what I was then perhaps he would hold onto me. We could finally leave like we always planned, but he never listens. His voice is so vivid when I sleep, I think he’s there.”

”What is the conversation about?” He presses.

”Arkham and the mob. He never speaks of going anywhere else, he just takes himself there and leaves us behind," She finishes her thought before admitting aloud, "I miss him.”

Strange leaned forward, curious to hear what made her tick. "Is that what pulls you out of your sleep?"

"No." Sinara laced her fingers over her stomach. 

"Then what wakes you at night?"

Sinara exhaled through her nose, eyelids quivering. "I cry in my sleep sometimes... because he's gone and I failed. No matter the actions or words. I always fail. I don't like losing."

And there it was. Strange unearthed the very meticulous detail related to their very own Caped Crusader; a fear of failure. A disturbed smile possessed his harsh, aged features.

"Why is that?"

"Because my whole life has been dedicated to winning... I never missed a target, never disappointed a client, never let down my family. Why did I have to fail? Why do I need to fail? There's no room for failure for someone like me. If one piece of me crumbles, the rest is torn down by everyone else. I can't afford to fail." Her breath hitched.

Hugo leaned forward, fully engaged in her words. "But you _did_ fail, Sinara, didn't you?"

A small whine followed her nodding. She flexed her fingers before speaking. "I did."

"And you wake to the belief that you will never rebuild from your failure, don't you?"

Sinara's fingers coiled into loose fists, the look on her face came off determined yet pained. The doctor lifted his chin, threatening to ask again until he watched her lips move to breathe life into her answer.

"Yes." She responded.

Hugo sat in silence, observing the state of her body language and mulling the last few minutes of the session for it was coming to a close. He thought to himself silently how deep this rabbit hole went. The doctor rose elegantly from his chair, taking strides over to his desk, and switched on the pause button belonging to the recorder.

Strange leaned closer to the desk, taking a blank journal from the drawer, wearing an intense yet curious look as he gazed at her. ”And do you feel you have failed your son?”

”Yes.” She breathed.

”How?” He pressed.

”By convincing him this is the only way we can live our lives,” Sinara shook her head, “There's more to this world than money and power.”


	4. Before I Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Castillo Family spends some time together/

Kids poured out from the inner workings of the school building anxious to hop on a bus or find their parents for the sake of getting picked up early. Teachers supervised some of the younger students as they ran to their parents while a small clique of first graders gathered by the bushes. All of them giggling or starting some sort of trouble that would lead them to the principal’s office or the guidance counselor.

Fortunately, Husani was whisked away from any future mischief by his Aunt Luna to celebrate his last day of school with a day out to the movies. He munched down on the last bit of popcorn in the backseat while Luna inched forward in rush hour traffic. His uniform jacket balled up behind him and clip-on tie sprawled across his lap, swinging his legs, and bobbing his head to the stereo behind him. Luna mouthed the words to a commercial pop song playing on the local radio while she drummed against the steering wheel to the beat.

”Auntie?” Husani called out. His mind appeared preoccupied with the large truck next to him; the afternoon light reflecting the velvety copper that was his complexion, his loosely curled hair braided back into cornrows and neatly tucked under his shirt collar. 

Luna glanced up to the rearview mirror where she could get a proper read on him. “What’s wrong, Pup?”

”Is Mom coming home from work early?” He asked calmly.

The upturned corners of her mouth faltered for a moment. She tore her disappointed gaze away from the mirror to the traffic ahead. “I think so,” Luna paused to avoid a stammer, “Didn’t she tell you she wanted to make your moving up ceremony?”

Husani’s chest tightened, a sudden flutter in his chest reflecting the amount of anxiety held in his small frame. “Yeah… she did.”

Luna flicked her slick onyx hair over her shoulder, eyes glinting in her reflection, and gaze locked on the boy. A small smile rest on her pillowy lips. “One thing about your mom, Puppy, is that she’s never flaked out on a promise. Ever.”

”I know… I--”

”Breathe, Baby Boy. She’ll probably be home by the time we get there, I promise.”

Husani followed her instruction without hesitation. He watched her bony fingers turn the dial to another radio station. The moment a familiar set bass played; Luna nearly screamed as she turned up the volume on the radio.

Husani jumped in reaction before his brows knit together. "What's wrong?"

"This is your mom and I's favorite song." She smiled starting to sing the words.

' _Cause girl you came and changed the way I walk, the way I talk. I cannot explain the things I feel for you_.'

Husani bobbed his head along to the bass not quite understanding how much the song meant to her. Without Sinara's presence, he couldn't decode the vague memories mentioned and left for interpretation. Lately, Husani rarely understood what his mother and aunt were about most of the time. The mystery was left open for anyone to interpret, which didn't feel good. There was a very surreal feeling about the picture painted describing their unique minds with shared childhoods. As if they weren't real.

With Luna's offkey singing serving as background noise, Husani read the time on his watch before his screen switched over to a text from his mom. He mouthed the words to himself, not quite understanding the words until he read them aloud. A relieved smile graced his features before he looked up to Luna.

"Auntie! Mommy is coming home!"

Luna's expression beamed hearing his tiny voice carry over the stereo. "That's good, Puppy! I told you she wouldn't flake out on you... or me."

Husani leaned back in his seat, watching the traffic lighten as Luna drummed out a beat on her steering wheel. A faint sense of hope turned into a concrete promise.

An hour and a half later, the duo made their way out of traffic and into their apartment building. Faint sounds of a dog barking came from behind their door while a ring of keys echoed in the hallway. A familiar set of actions performed enough times Husani could barely count. Except for the string of commands yelled out in Spanish behind the door before the dog silenced. The lock clicked and the door swung open.

Sinara beamed immediately at the sight of Husani's presence. "Hey, my Baby Boy, how was your last day of school?"

Husani stared off for a long moment in shock before he smiled back and threw himself into her arms. A small giggle surfaced from her then she picked him up the moment his hold on her constricted. Sinara cradled the back of his head, supporting his body with her unoccupied arm, and took in his scent-- a scent she missed.

"Fun... boring at first, but Auntie Lu took me to a movie and I didn't have to do homework." He murmured into the crook of her neck.

Sinara leaned in Luna's direction to receive her kiss on her cheek before Luna officially closed the door behind them. It wasn't long before Orion, an older Siberian husky, appeared from the back to greet the rest of his family accompanied by a younger German Shepherd named Jasper. Both dogs were close to the seven year old's age.

"You got your report card?" Sinara asked.

Husani worked his way out of her grip and reached for his backpack as soon as his feet touched the floor. While he handed the small folded piece of paper over, he sifted through his favorite projects and presented them on the coffee table. His motions careful and meticulous reminding Sinara of his father's neat attitude.

Luna chewed on her lip after grabbing a drink from the kitchen and folded her legs underneath herself while Sinara plopped down in her seat. The sisters read over the report card while the boy sifted through his work.

"Your grades in math and science are fantastic-- a whopping four! You kept that streak all year, Boo, good job." Sinara pointed out.

Husani grinned and nodded along with her. Luna pointed 

"In English and writing, you got a three?!" Sinara gasped.

His face lit followed by an excited nod. "Yeah... Auntie helped me some."

"Yeah, but you did the work, didn't you?" Luna corrected.

Husani shifted on his feet from one to the other rethinking his observation. "I guess I did."

Sinara smiled at ease. "You _think_ you did?"

He bowed his head head bashful. "I _know_ I did." 

"That's right," Sinara hopped out of her seat and grabbed a handful of the projects on the coffee table, "C'mon, let's pick out the ones you want to frame in your bedroom. Hurry!"

Husani grabbed the rest, scrambling after her. "Coming, Mommy!"

Luna gripped her legs, witnessing their exit, and the loyal pair of dogs following their playful race down the hall. She fluffed her hair before she attempted to move from the floor to the window. She lingered near the blinds watching an old couple stroll on their block. 

Most of her thoughts led back to the terrible nature of the city. She couldn't stand to watch the news without dry heaving. The constant escapes from Arkham made her antsy, as if a familiar face would or could walk through the door. Or someone worse.

There was an advantage to living on the safer side of town. Crime Alley was no place to live for someone as good as her nephew.

Meanwhile, Sinara reached the tallest part of the board where her son couldn't reach. The board grew into a colorful array arranged in the most artistic way possible. She realized her son grew fond of art class and making anything close to a project requiring time. An admirable trait of his.

She placed a hand on her hip and backed away observing the way he hung his pictures. She felt a surge of pride and she smiled, "You make really good pictures. Do you like painting them?"

"Yeah," He beamed up at her, "My art teacher is the best."

"Do you _want_ to be an art teacher when you grow up?" Sinara inquired.

The boy shook his head. "I want to be an artist like the paintings you showed me at that huge museum."

"Which one? Da Vinci? Picasso? Basquiat?" She listed taking a seat on his bed.

"All of them!" He exclaimed. Husani hopped into her arms and landed on her lap with her help. 

"Then you'll be a fantastic artist. You can be anything you choose to be in this world, don't let anyone tell you different." She whispered into his ear.

Husani scratched behind his ear and gazed at her bashfully. "I know, Mommy."

"I know you know, Baby," She kissed his forehead, "I want you to know because I might not always be there to tell you. You can do anything in this world."

"I can do anything." He repeated in a whisper.

Her smile graced her soft features once again and she pecked a kiss on his forehead then his cheek. He twisted in her lap to face the wall of paintings they put together, but her arms held him tight. They scanned over each one carefully, finding their favorites and the memories weaved within them. Certain colors drew their eyes to ones they've already seen and haven't.

Each one made Sinara proud. The sweetest person on this side of the world with an unconditional love for her was in her arms. She couldn't ask for anything more.

Even though Rhys wasn't present to see the things that made Husani great. She could thank him for the very being sitting in her lap, laughing from her poking his sides, and shrieking about how ticklish he was. And she was happy to have experienced it for herself.

"Your father would be so thrilled to have seen your things. He loves art." She thought aloud.

Husani reached behind him, grabbing a corkscrew sized curl of hers to wrap around his small index. His brow knit together in curiosity, "What was he like?"

"Weird... but cute. He had this spark in his eye every time he smiled or told a joke. There wasn't a second in my life where I felt unloved or unwanted when we didn't speak. Patient yet stern," Sinara stopped to rest her chin on his head, "Your father could pretty much charm his way out of trouble... which is why I'm so hard on you. Between the two of us, we made ourselves a slick one."

"Did he ever love me?" He continued still toying with her lock of hair.

"Of course he did. When you were born, he held you before I got a chance to. You were so tiny and peaceful, he didn't know what to do with himself," She giggled, "He helped you walk for the first time and stopped you from crying when I couldn't. He loved you and he still loves you."

Husani sat silently, visibly taking in her words and mulling over them. "Then why did he leave?"

Like a knife to the heart, she sucked in a breath and bowed her head into his hair. She took a comfort in knowing her son wasn't one to be fooled.

"Because... I made some mistakes with and without your dad involved-- I won't lie that he's made some too. Now, we're paying the ultimate price."

"Will we get to see him again?"

"Soon," She kissed his temple, "One day, we'll be a long way away from our home in Gotham and making a better one. I promise."


	5. Thinking Bout You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unannounced guest stops by.

Sinara emerged from Husani's bedroom; rigid and wearing a hint of shame in her posture. A different mask than a few hours ago: bared faced, weary, and donning an old shirt from '06. Her usual stature would’ve been taller, more prideful-- some would call it arrogant. The gleam in her eyes would’ve been focused yet she didn’t seem grounded. Vulnerable, rather.

Behind her, Husani called her from his bed causing her to turn. He gripped his bedsheets as he turned over on his side and tucked his legs underneath him. Sinara moved out of the way for Orion to enter the bedroom and joined him by claiming his spot at the end of his bed. 

"Te amo." Husani yawned.

She kissed the tips of her fingers and blew gently, "Te amo tambien. Get some rest, Mijo."

Her fingers switched the light off and left the door partially open before she moved into the living room with Jasper on her trail. The German Shepard trot behind her faithfully, nudging her hand, and nipped at her thumb for her attention.

"Ay, chill out. I _just_ took you outside so there is no way in hell you’re going back out until tomorrow." Sinara warned.

Luna eased out of her bedroom donning her usual all black ensemble and strapping her bag across her torso. Her mind preoccupied on her phone acting as a flashlight to guide her out.

"Got a job?" Sinara asked. Her arms folded neatly across her chest as she stepped forward.

"Yep, some suspicious first class mom wants to know what her daughter is _really_ doing in Europe. I might be a minute before I come back around, so don't wait up for me." Luna explained further.

"No... it's good you're getting jobs again. Been a while," Sinara nodded, "Congrats."

Luna smiled mostly from pride and relief. "It's about goddamn time. At least you don't have to worry about me and my finances, I finally get to help you out with rent."

"You help me enough, Lu." Sinara added.

"Doesn't matter. You have enough on your plate," Luna cleared her throat, "How did your appointment go?"

Sinara sniffled as she came up with a half assed response to explain her experience. Her head bowed to the ground, "Needs time. I'm not as bad as I thought, but I'm not as good either, so I have to come back regularly."

"It's a start. I'll call you when I get there." Luna headed for the door.

"Be safe."

"I will."

The door clicked shut signaling her sister's absence. Dead silence followed since Husani was sound asleep and Jasper perched himself next to the entryway. Light seeped between the blinds and the nonexistent tension in the air grew thick. Could've been fear, but these days it was more about caution.

Sinara shook her head feeling the sensation of her curly mane brushing against her shoulders. Her eyes flit about the open space sensing someone nearby. Her first instinct was to crack her knuckles until someone knocked on the door. Taking confident steps to the door, she checked her unannounced visitor before she scoffed a laugh as she answered. The heavy security door swung open before the woman behind it looked up.

The woman's usual pixie cut was slicked back, makeup still heavy, and her bag had been packed. The heavy scent of expensive perfume and stale cigarettes lingered-- acting as an aphrodisiac for Sinara. Yet she managed to keep her composure around her guest. The corners of her lips turned upwards as she placed her hand on Sinara's cheek affectionately. She made her way inside, swaying her hips as she walked and dropped her things aside.

”I thought you said you were busy tonight.” Sinara whispered.

Selina shrugged a shoulder. ”Change of plans, I guess.” 

Selina cupped Sinara's chin and crashed her lips against her own resulting in a bleeding lip on Sinara's end. The pair eventually backed their way towards the hallway until Sinara broke the kiss and pulled her into her bedroom. This silence held less imagined tension, practically thick with desire just by skin to skin contact alone.

"Hoped you didn't mind me waking you." Selina gripped the hem of Sinara's shirt and tugged it over her head.

"Please," Sinara groaned, "I wasn't even close to sleeping. In fact, you saved me, Ms. Kyle."

Sinara slid her forearms out the sleeves, tilting her head back as Selina left traces of kisses down her neck. She gripped Selina's waistband, pressing her knuckles against her heated skin, and unbuttoned her jeans. Her fingers running along her exposed stomach simultaneously rolling her shirt up to her waist before she thought to remove the thin top.

Selina kicked her shoes off and pushed her jeans to the floor before she moved to the bed. Sinara followed her promptly without a word as her own hands slid her shorts down to her knees leaving her completely naked. As she did so, Selina grazed her hand along her waist before her lips teased the skin just beneath her breast. The tip of Selina's tongue tracing a faint, inconsistent line along her chilled skin and sucked gently. Although, her least occupied hand gently followed the curve of her ass before she dug her nails into it sharply. A slight gasp slipped from Sinara's lips as she gradually sucked harder on each nipple.

"Shh." Selina released her grasp.

Sinara brushed her lips against the hollow of her throat trailing down to her navel. Her moved aside before she bared her teeth and bit down repeatedly into her soft flesh until Selina responded with a tremble. Sinara gripped the sides of her lover's panties before she removed them slowly and tossed them aside. She crawled between her legs teasing the idea of kissing her or even giving her the gratification.

Sinara pulled away in a lazy fashion only leaving Selina with the option of nipping at her ear and licking the junction between her neck and jawline. She lifted her body away to tie her hair into a slightly messier puff. She resumed her position before she placed Selina's legs on her shoulders, kissing and licking along her inner thigh before she built up to the next move.

Sinara ran her thumb between her folds until she licked from her entrance to the bundle of nerves, which she carefully wrapped her lips around before she repeated the action. The warmth of her tongue followed by heavy breaths. She circled around her clit with the tip of her tongue before she replaced it with her thumb to toy with her. Stifled moaning could be heard regardless of Selina's thighs trapping her head.

Sinara slid her fingers into her slowly rewarded with her arousal leaving her fingers wet. She didn't want to nor did Selina wish for her to go faster than the teasing moderate pace she was going in. Sinara was only interested in keeping her legs spread apart and her clit as achingly engorged as it was in this moment. Her focus eventually resulting in Selina’s orgasm, almost a shock to them, if anyone came faster it would’ve been Sinara.

"Oh God,” Selina panted coming down from her high, “I hate coming to your house.”

Sinara moved her mouth away from her slick heat before she placed a tender kiss just beneath her navel. An impish smirk on her lips as she whispered, “I know.”

”And I hate when you top… more like orgasm torture.”

”Such a whiner you are," Sinara pout her bottom lip, "You should be excited, you get your turn and your revenge."

Selina shook her head as Sinara crawled forward and kissed along her neck. Sinara reached her lips finally sharing her taste by the warmth of her lips and tongue.

In a matter of minutes, Sinara reached the same state of euphoria without so much as whimper. She knew how to stay quiet unlike Selina. Her hips cradled by her lover's arms while she rolled her hips forward. The only sounds coming from them at that moment were the uneven breaths passing her lips and Selina's fingers rhythmically pumping her fingers into her.

Sinara trembled on the brink of an orgasm, hoping nothing audible could be heard. She placed her hands against the wall, gripping nothing in particular.

"Don't stop." Sinara begged.

Selina brushed her tongue along her clit the moment she pleaded. Her hands no longer doing the work, but her mouth only increasing the tension building in her body. A series of throaty breaths followed by a whimper broke the silence before Sinara collapsed by her side.

Selina wiped her mouth eyeing her carefully, waiting for the exact moment when Sinara licked her lips afterwards. No matter the setting or time, when she came, Sinara always licked her lips as if she were savoring her last meal. Perhaps it was obsessive or needy, but the approval of them being done for the night helped.

Yet she didn't.

Sinara switched on the bed lamp and sighed, pushing her stray coils back. "Cat... we can't keep doing this."

"I know." Selina agreed.

"No, you're my best friend. You helped keep me sane from all of this, I honestly don't know how we got here." Sinara bowed her head.

"A couple of drinks and a short dress." Cat answered honestly.

Sinara sucked her teeth briefly. "Come on, I know how. My question is why."

"I'm not discussing this every single time we fuck. I'm still your best friend... we're just on a different level than others. We need each other in different ways," Selina paused giving an impatient sigh, "See? You got me discussing this shit again."

Sinara threw her an annoyed glance. "I'm not making you do anything. You made that decision by rambling on about it with the exact same logic."

"Logic you can't seem to process on your own time and decision is based on influence. You know that," Selina advised, "You want a reason for us to stop. To act like this is wrong, but in your world, it isn't and you want rules when there aren't any left in your life to spare."

"But I have to pretend. My son thinks his mother has her best friend sleep over on weeknights while his father lives in a psych ward. He thinks his mother is a telemarketer and his aunt a member of Geek Squad," Sinara rubbed her temples, "I want him to be a good boy. I don't want him to find out any of my secrets o at ten years old. I don't want to scar him."

Selina curled her legs underneath her before she wrinkled her nose to avoid an itch. She rubbed her bare shoulder before she pecked a kiss on her jaw.

"I'm in no position to say anything, but there can't be a perfect method in raising a child. Just keep loving 'em, teaching 'em, maybe support their interests. Usually they turn out okay after that."

The mood lightened after Sinara licked her lips slowly and laughed; an airy one to prove she felt a bit better when Selina was there. Fleeting thoughts about their affair lasting no longer than a moment turned into anxious thoughts about moving on if it lasted longer than predicted.

Partially clothed and limbs entwined within each other's, the shadows engulfed their figures leaving a distorted image of them in bed. Portions of lips and limbs on visible in the lone amber streetlight.

The one night a nightmare didn't come back around to haunt her.


	6. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chess game begins.

            Count six years of residing in Arkham Asylum. Existing not only as a man, but as a father _and_ husband—missing several birthdays, anniversaries, and milestones because of a petty crime.  The physical assault on an officer. Luckily, he wasn’t placed with the major criminals escaping to terrorize the town for whichever motive they had. He didn’t care much since he wasn’t involved with much of anything from the beginning, but he did mind the Scarecrow getting out. _Then_ and _only_ then did he worry about one of them vanishing since it hindered his chances of getting out. However, a well-thought plot for a takeover wasn’t imminent, but a future phone call to his wife would be. Rhys always called at nine in the morning sharp when Husani was already asleep or in school. Sinara’s schedule always shelled out time for his call every morning. Her morning schedule went something like this:

 

_Wake up at four in the morning. Brush teeth. Jog. Sprint home. Shower. Check on Husani—either leaving him to rest or escort him to the bus. Wait for Rhys’ call while eating breakfast._

 

                Rhys paid attention to her favorite cereal, how many sugars she took in her coffee, how much she loathed American brands of coffee and her least favorite new channel. He was—is the at-home husband—the man who kissed his wife before waving his wife off to work and drove his son to daycare when things got too busy. He is the man who was inexplicably proud of his son when he learned to count to five. Yet he sat in a place built for the criminally insane because _he_ is one of them.

 

                He tapped his fingers against his thighs, waiting for the minute hand on the clock to hit twelve while placing the inmate making obscene comments under his breath walking in circles in the quiet room. Rhys reached to take the phone off the hook, not a second later than the hour hand pointed to nine.  The numbers dialed without a bat of a lash— his home number came to him as natural as breathing did. A brief, stifled ring signaling the call going through. The repetitive tone cut off abruptly by the person who picked up, but it wasn’t his wife. The receiver of the call sounded much younger than anyone else choosing to answer the call… someone in the form of the child.

 

                Rhys gripped the phone until his knuckles were bone white. His heart began to sink into the pit of his stomach while his pulse throbbed in his neck.

 

                “… _Hello_? _Anyone there?_ ” Husani beckoned. 

 

               Rhys grit his teeth, slightly agitated that Sinara would allow her son to answer the phone. He closed his eyes, taking in a patient breath until he could muster the energy to speak without panic in his tone.

 

               “Hello, can I talk to Sinara Castillo? This is an urgent call.” 

 

               “Um… she’s sleeping right now. I can tell her you called if you want.”

 

               Rhys softened listening to his son’s voice. He rubbed the nape of his neck to regain his composure before it could show in his voice.

 

               “What about Luna Castillo? Is she available?” 

 

               “ _Nooo_. She had to work,” Husani huffed a breath, “Just me.”

 

                “Alright. You don’t need to leave a message for me, I’ll just find another way to get in touch with either of them.”

 

                “Bye then.”

 

                An amused smirk tugged at his lips with a brief nod. He chuckled, “Bye, Kiddo.”

 

                It took a moment for the other end to click and went it did, he placed the line on the receiver. She’s been missing his call for the past _thirteen days_. He didn’t mind three days or a whole week, but thirteen days in a row meant something was wrong.  If Luna went back to work, this meant she wouldn’t be around as a safety net to filter his calls.

 

                Rhys bounced his leg. The impatience of not knowing anything about the outside world managed to dig under his skin—he had to know something. Even if was the bare minimum. He would take a conversation about getting a new dishwasher or whether the blinds should be changed out than to be left completely in the dark. He had the caliber to place the whole asylum on ignore; pretend he was in a much more established mental hospital instead of dirty, rat-infested building with a ton of crawlspaces.

 

                He sat upright in his chair, however, attempting to bring himself down from the tension of being kept in the dark when two guards and his doctor entered the room. His brow furrowed together in confusion. The settling panic only worsened at the sight of Dr. Young’s concerned face.

 

                “Are you alright, Rhys?” She inquired.

 

                “Nervous, but I’ll be okay. What’s going on? Am I being moved to Blackgate?”

               

                Dr. Penelope Young gave a wary glance in the direction of the patient circling around the room. Her eyes shifted back to him, “Would you like to talk about this in private?”

 

                “No. I’d rather know now.”

 

                The doctor took a seat beside him; she crossed her legs and linked her fingers together to rest them on her knee.

                “You’re being released within a week. To ensure your mental health, I recommended the warden to move you into a halfway home to complete your rehabilitation and for easier transitioning into society. Since it’s been nearly a decade,” She shrugged, “They took heed to my recommendation.”

 

                Rhys’ mouth parted unable to process the news. He glanced around the room, believing the announcement to be either a lie or a dream. When he couldn’t, a relieved sigh came from him before he clenched his teeth to save face.

 

                “Will there be a hearing or something? Does my family know? Does my wife know?”

 

                “How do you feel about this, Rhys?”

 

                Rhys laughed, “Fuckin’ amazed! You had me goin’ with the guards and shit, I thought I was gonna go to prison!”

 

                Dr. Young issued a smile with her eyes shifting to the floor. She rubbed a shoulder, “I’m happy for you. You’ve come a long way… would you like for me to relay the news to your family?”

 

                Rhys paused; his mind backtracked focused on the uncharacteristically quiet Sinara allowing their seven-year-old son to answer the phone at his own discretion. He shook his head, forcing a smile instead of being completely honest, “Uh, no. I think I’ll tell them myself.”

 

***

                 Husani toyed with his Nintendo; his thoughts no longer on the concept of playing a mind-numbing game-- the phone call, however, was a different story. He glanced around the waiting room decorated in light blue and espresso brown, a little curiosity for what other things he could get into during his wait. He kicked his legs to the beat his gaming console played out. 

               

                “Are you sure this is a doctor’s office?” Husani whispered under his breath.

 

                Sinara typed out a message to the mystery contact wearing a grin. She bounced her knee continuing to text without so much as a glance away from the screen.

 

                “Yes, I’m sure. This isn’t a clinic, Baby Boy, this is a different doctor.”

 

                Husani relaxed into his seat, “Do you get needles?”

 

                “No, Honey.” Sinara rubbed his shoulder, apparently amused by her own son.

               

                The click of the door signaled another one of his patients would be leaving; there was an exchanging of words before the door swung open to reveal a woman in her late thirties brandishing a briefcase and tight bun. She didn’t give Sinara nor Husani a second glance though Sinara snuck a glance at the Arkham Asylum identification badge hanging outside of the woman’s case.

               

                _Dr. Penelope Young M.D._

               

                Sinara shut off her phone reminded about her husband’s whereabouts. She tucked her phone away into her pocket while her eyes remained on her, tempted to inquire her for the reason why Rhys suddenly didn’t call anymore. Thirteen days weren’t an anomaly. Before her concern got the best of her, her own doctor called her out of her reverie.  

 

                Dr. Strange kept his hands folded behind his back as he always did. An unreadable glint in his eyes when he spotted Sinara watching the doctor exit his office—still reserved and vaguely suspicious as she stayed for the past four appointments. The man took a step forward out of the doorway, pulling Sinara’s unnerving gaze back to him.

 

                “Are you alright, Sinara?” He questioned.

 

                 “I'm okay. This is my son, Husani,” Sinara stopped to place a hand on her child’s shoulder, “Husani, this is Dr. Strange.”

 

                Husani gripped his Nintendo tight, sensing an off element about the man standing before him and rolled his shoulders back when his skin crawled. He didn’t break eye contact with the older gentleman, but he offered a polite smile to avoid his mother’s embarrassment hoping he wouldn’t have to shake hands with him. The game console ringing out its jingle in the break of conversation.

 

                Husani scrunched his nose, feigning his kindness and his mother caught on, “Is that a _real_ name?“

                 

                Hugo huffed out an amused chuckle. “Yes, it is. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Husani. Your mother— for lack of a better word— _gushes_ about you often; I hope you’re aware of that.”

 

                The boy cast his eyes down 

at his feet then back to the man. “Yeah. I am.”

 

                Sinara squeezed his shoulder to comfort him before she rose to her feet, signaling an end to their exchange. She offered a half-hearted smile, “You’ll be alright out here on your own?”

 

                “Mhmm.” Husani hummed out.

 

 Sinara had nodded before she disappeared inside of the office with Hugo shutting the door behind themselves. Each of them returning to their assigned places. The air remaining heavy between them; both of them aware of the change waiting to happen.

 

For the past two weeks, Sinara felt pieces of her façade slipping away already. Emotions began to feel raw and bare instead of calloused, exhausted as they were for the majority of her adult life. She was already fading… perhaps even cracking without the pressure increasing. She didn’t wear exposed vulnerability well.

 

“Are you sure you’re feeling well? How are your dreams?”

 

Sinara shrugged off her jacket while she shook her head, “I haven’t been dreaming much, but I feel the same. I thought I would be improving already.”

 

Strange’s eyebrows shot up expectantly, “Wouldn’t you think dreaming less is an improvement? Especially within two weeks.”

 

“I’ve been sleeping with someone to stop them,” She confessed.

 

                “How do you think this correlates with the other?”

 

                “The day after my first session with you I had… a friend came to visit me. We were intimate then I let them stay the night in my bed and I stopped dreaming about my husband since then.”

 

                “How often did this occur?”

 

                Sinara centered the gold crucifix on her chain and placed a hand atop it. She scratched behind her ear, “Every night.”

 

                An audible click of a pen followed Hugo’s hard stare, “Why do you believe this plays a role?”

 

                “Body heat. I can lie to myself easier and fall asleep faster, maybe deeper? I’m not—maybe I’m used to being dependent on my husband for so long,” She grinned, “Funny I say that I haven’t seen his face in six months and _he’s_ the one in the fucking nuthouse.”

 

                “I know the story—it was all over the news, but I want to know what happened exactly six years ago through your eyes, Sinara.”

 

               She released a nervous laugh, “I-I can’t talk about that. My son is outside, I can’t break in front of him or he’ll look at me differently.”

 

               Hugo set his pen and notepad down, resting his arm on the side of the chair. “With all due respect your son isn’t my concern. You are my patient, paying for my time, and showing signs of an upcoming mental breakdown. If there is a thing I show interest towards would be you.”

 

               “Why aren’t I knocked out for this part?”

 

               “Because you trusted me enough to speak to me without the prompt. Would you like to be?”

 

               Sinara rubbed her shoulders self-consciously, “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to ask.”

 

               She leaned back on the chaise, resting on her back waiting for his verbal cue for the initial induction. Panic settling in the pit of her stomach from considering admitting to anything with her recalling anything. It wasn’t long until she faded to the sound of his voice. Her grip on reality went limp under his command, no longer listening but doing—thinking. 

 

                Strange turned on the voice recorder. His goal becoming tangible in plain sight; similar to cutting open a shell, she was vulnerable and honest instead of being reserved with the threat of getting inside of her head. Moments like now were deliciously intimate and time to praise his own work. The trust between them becoming so natural to her rational thoughts, it was truly a sight to behold.

 

                “Sinara?”

 

                “Yes?”

 

                “Are you relaxed now?”

 

                “Yes.”

 

                “Would you like to tell me more about the incident six years ago?”

 

                “I can’t remember much.”

 

                “What _can_ you recall from that time?”

 

                “Blood that isn’t mine. I’m always bloody, there’s always a cleanup afterward… like father, like daughter,” She laughs nervously, “I made a mistake.”

 

                Hugo straightened up further, “Who’s blood is it?”

 

                “My baby. Just another life lost… I think of it as a casualty until I hear him screaming. He’s in pain,” She trailed off beginning to hyperventilate.

 

                “Deep breaths,” Hugo ordered, “You’re safe. He’s not going to hurt you again… who is screaming?”

 

                Sinara pressed a finger to her lips regaining her control over her fear, “Rhys… he won’t stop crying and I need him to stop crying, but he keeps hurting me. The baby’s already dead ‘cause he punctured the lung—that’s what the doctor said, it doesn't help anything.”

Hugo tilted his head in interest-- a sly grin resting easy on his face when it became apparent to him that she trusted him. Perhaps the willingness to admit to such a thing wasn't there, but it was fully implied in her body language and that's all he needed. Complete, inevitable trust. The grin grew into something somewhat of a crazed and menacing smile. Moments like this were deliciously intimate _indeed_.


	7. Til Death Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding a ride or die isn't common. Sink your claws into their skin when you do.

At first, there wasn’t anything. Panic rushed through her. The clock made more noise than the television. Blood stained her hands, and there were fresh, stinging scratches on the backs of her arms. She felt numb standing in the middle of the loft apartment, scanning over the mess with on the plush white carpet until she searched around herself for her purse.

 ** _'What have you done,’_** Her thoughts whispered to her, ‘ ** _What. Have. You. Done.’_**

Her victim’s body remained lifeless. Blood pouring from his eyeball sockets, the swelling around his neck, figure frozen in the sitting position and his mouth slightly ajar from his screaming. Sinara finally came to her senses, her chest heaving having every recollection of him beating her because she refused to provide him with service exceeding the time he paid for. She could hear every disgusting slur he fired at her.

Instead of going further, she snatched her attention away from the body and picked up her purse. Her hand immediately reached for her phone and dialed the first number she could think of.

                **_‘Why, why, why didn’t you have control? WHERE IS YOUR CONTROL,’_** The voice began, **_‘What have you done, Sinara? Daddy wouldn’t’ve liked this. He told you to be careful. Why weren’t you careful? Can’t we go back? Can we go back to the start?’_**

“Shh… shut up.” Sinara whispered.

“What? Nara, what’s going on?” Rhys asked again.

She caved. Tears beginning to surface—why didn’t this side leave her? Sinara refrained from touching anything more than her standing in the middle of the room with her eyes locked on the body. Her breath hitched as she spoke, “R-Rhys? Where are you?”

“I’m still at the lounge. Where are you? Why aren’t you here?”

                **‘ _We need to leave. NOW!!’_**

Sinara gripped her hair at her scalp—the familiar numbness that washed over her when the rest of her went into panic, a crippling fear of someone having the key to the front door. She had to think of a way out. A way to rid herself of the evidence pointing to her.

“I-I took a client. We’re in a hotel… The Monarch.” She hiccupped

 “…What are you doing there?!”

“Did you hear what I said?” Sinara hissed out between bared teeth.

“I _know_ why you’re there. Why didn’t tell me you were going? You never do that.”

“Yeah… well,” Sinara glanced at the body, “He didn’t give me much of a choice. So I snapped.”

The opposite end fell silent. The only indicator to Rhys’ presence were the shallow breaths he took and the music fading into loud background chatter.

“What the fuck did you do? Sinara, Vinny is missing and everyone’s calling around to find him. It won’t be long before Falcone sends out police to find him.”

“Go back inside and tell whoever’s asking you got him to answer. Tell him he’s busy with a girl or some shit, get them off his case cause I’m sitting in front of him.”

“Holy shit. You didn’t.”

“He pushed me. I _really_ didn’t mean to but he kept cornering me… I didn’t get much of a choice. Go back in there or you’ll find me in a body bag.”

His breathing quickened, “Oh God… I’m so fucking lightheaded right now. Oh my God.”

“Go back now. Breathe. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Rhys’ voice began to quaver, “Shit! Shit!”

Sinara closed her eyes; a flutter of relief stopped her heart when she heard him inhale and the familiar click of his lighter. She didn’t relax her tense stance until she heard the long exhale from smoking what she was sure had been cigarette.  Just seconds later, she heard his voice calling out to catch up with someone—then the exact lie she told him coming from his own mouth. The patience in his diction, the ability to pull himself out of what could’ve been a disaster into a the fully composed man she sat with only an hour ago.

“Yeah, I dunno if I’ll catch him before he leaves… sounds like he was already on his way out when he picked up. I’ll speak with you later... it’s the missus,” A brief pause, “You still there, Babygirl?”

“Mhmm. It sounds quiet in the hallway now, maybe you have some time to bring me the tan suitcase in the trunk of our car. I need you drive here quickly so I can handle it.”

“I’m helping you.”

“Rhys—“

“Tell me ‘no’ all you want, but I’m helping you. I’m not letting you do this on your own. For better, for worse.”

“Fine, Romeo, confess your undying love for me later. Hurry up… we got until seven in the morning and it’s almost two.”

“Should I call Luna and tell her we’ll be running late?”

“No… she’ll understand.”


End file.
